When we found out that we were expecting you, your father and I went through the typical range of emotions. We were so excited to start our family, and simultaneously so scared of the unknown. One of the things we worried most about was our tiny little house. It didn't seem possible that it would be big enough for us and a baby, but we weren't in a position to move. We made it work. Not just work, we made it thrive! We turned the tiny room we had been using as a closet into the brightest, happiest, tiny, little nursery you ever did see. We set up the corner of the living room as a play area. We got rid of a couple of kitchen chairs to make room for your high chair. We made just enough room for you, and made the best of our little home.
We have so many happy memories in that home. Many of your "firsts" took place in that itty bitty bungalow, and even though it was small, it was cute and cozy. It was ours. Still, the older (and bigger) you got, the smaller the house seemed to become. Your father and I would trip over each other's feet while preparing dinner. We kept all of our clothing in the dreary basement, because our bedroom had no space for it. Any time we wanted to entertain guests, we had to hope for fair weather, so we could take advantage of our large backyard to compensate for the lack of space inside. Grandparents coming to town for the weekend stayed in a nearby hotel because there simply wasn't room to host them. The time was coming. We would need to move.
Just about six months ago, your father and I were doing some casual house-hunting, and we fell in love with a house. It was perfect. Plenty of space for our family to grow. From the first time we looked at it, we saw a playhouse for you in the back yard. We saw the cozy basement full of your friends eating popcorn at a slumber party. We saw space for a little brother or sister for you, some day. We saw a house that you could grow up in.
|Home Sweet New Home!|
|Delilah's last time walking on the first grass she |
ever walked on at our first home.